


Sing a Little Song (For the Broken and the Rich)

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Post-Battle of Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 14:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13883190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Draco couldn't let himself love again, but when it came to promises, his own were the easiest to break.





	Sing a Little Song (For the Broken and the Rich)

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to write smut but then my mind said nah, and I wrote this instead.

Draco had _promised_ himself. He said that it was only for the feeling of skin against his again, an outlet for the anger and fear and sadness he felt after the war. He had told himself that he wouldn't truly feel anything, especially for someone like Ron Weasley. Someone with a wife, with kids, with a future.

But Draco could never keep a promise.

That isn't to say he didn't try. Because he did, warnings repeating in his mind, over and over, like the steady drip of rain. A mantra, as he let Ron into his home, as heat began to build, when nothing stood between their skin except sticky sweat, as he quietly watched Ron let himself out the back door. When he lazed in bed afterwards, ghost of lips and hands taunting him in the empty room, empty house, empty heart.

He realized his sheets smelled like Ron once, and the thought filled him with hot, boiling guilt.

What was he guilty about?

He couldn't tell you.

He tried not to let himself dwell on heavy hands pressing against him, his chest, his thighs, his hips, threading through his hair, tugging just hard enough to bridge pain and pleasure. He didn't let himself keep the purple marks along his throat and collarbones, instead Vanishing them away, along with the fingerprint shaped bruises decorating his lower back. He was the only one who could see them, but, somehow, that made it all worse.

He didn't want anything that would make him feel like he belonged to Ron.

_He can't fall in love again._

Telling himself so often it's like a second name. 

Draco bit hard on his lip to keep in the groans, hands held in place by Ron's own, freckled fingers tight against Draco's pale wrists. Sweat dotted the redhead's forehead, face twisted into a snarl as he pounded into Draco.

Pinned in place, a mess of lust and heat, sure to regret it in the morning, Draco Malfoy felt tears prickles at his eyes as he looked around.

Beautiful manor. The best money could buy. Anything he wanted at the snap of his brittle fingers, and everyone would turn a blind eye. And no one to share it with.

He wanted someone, anyone, to fill in the gaps his lonely life had left behind.

But, as Ron's fingernails bit blood from Draco's wrists and he angled into a spot that sent electricity up and down Draco's spine, Draco knew he had to take it one moment at a time.

He swore he would never let himself feel.

Guess that makes him a liar.

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty shitty fic, sorry world. Comments, kudos, yadadada. Thanks for reading!!


End file.
